Page 118 of Finders Keepers

“Of course.” His hand brushes my lower back as he moves past me to flip the toast in the pan. The touch is grounding, reassuring.

“Can I help finish cooking?” Sophie asks, already squirming to get down.

I set her back on her chair, keeping one hand on her back. “Careful, sweetie.”

“I got it, Mommy. Gavin showed me how to do it the right way.” She dunks another piece of bread into the mixture with exaggerated care.

I watch them work together, something warm and foreign expanding in my chest.

“Coffee?” He gestures to a fresh pot I hadn’t noticed before.

“Please.” I sink into a kitchen chair, my legs still a bit shaky.

He pours me a cup, adding cream the way he’s noticed I like it. “You okay?” he asks quietly as he sets it in front of me.

I nod, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “I just… when I woke up and she wasn’t there…”

“I should have let you know,” he says, looking genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t think…”

“No, it’s not your fault.” I take a sip of coffee, letting its warmth spread through me. “It’s just me being…”

“A mom,” he finishes. “A good one who looks out for her kid. Nothing wrong with that.”

The simple understanding in his voice makes my eyes sting. I blink rapidly, focusing on Sophie as she carefully sprinkles powdered sugar on the toast.

“Look, Mommy! I’m doing it!” Her face beams with pride.

“You sure are, baby. You’re doing amazing.”

“We got you presents too!” She bounces on her chair. “But Gavin said we have to wait until after breakfast.”

“Presents?” I look at Gavin, who just smiles mysteriously and heads back to the island.

“Can’t have a birthday without presents now, can we?” he says, sliding perfectly golden-brown French toast onto the plates.

I can’t remember the last time I had actual birthday presents. Matt would sometimes remember to grab something from a gas station on his way home, if he remembered at all. Usually, it was just another day of walking on eggshells.

“Mommy?” Sophie’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Are you sad?”

I quickly wipe my eyes. “No, baby. I’m just happy.”

She looks at me with her wide blue eyes, searching my face. After a moment, she seems satisfied with my answer and gives me another hug, her small arms wrapping around my neck with surprising strength, grounding me in this beautiful moment that feels so foreign yet so right.

Gavin sets plates loaded with French toast in front of us, each piece dusted with powdered sugar and topped with fresh berries.

“This is…” I have to stop and clear my throat. “This is incredible. Thank you both so much.”

“Happy birthday, Bailey,” Gavin says softly, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

Sophie climbs into my lap and looks up at me. “Can I give you your present now?”

“I don’t see why not.” I smile. I can’t resist seeing that sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She scrambles off just as fast, nearly knocking over my coffee in her haste.

“Be careful, baby!” I call after her as she races down the hallway, Nugget trotting behind her.

“She’s been bursting to give you her present since she woke up,” Gavin says from the chair next to me. “I had to convince her to wait until you were actually awake.”

“What time did she—”

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